Survival
by AlexAugust
Summary: An AU story about life after a world wide epidemic and the cost of surviving. Can Remy get past a year spent amongst the worst of it? After remaining at PPTH what will Cameron risk for a chance to leave? Violence, swearing, death and plenty of Camteen.
1. The Escaped

**It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change. - Charles Darwin**

The streets were hollow, void of the life that once moved through them in a rush to a destination that no longer mattered. Light winds moved across the ground, impeded only by the remains of man's favorite technological presence still scattering the landscape. Great cities were no longer the great dividing point between man and nature. Buildings groaned as moss and vines crept into their walls. Occasionally one could even hear them shift as the length in time their abandonment to the soil beneath them grew. There was no one to ensure the industrial control over the aggressive will of mother earth remained present. The earth began to retake what belonged to it.

In the six months since the change these had all become the unmistakable signs that the latest extinction of the dominate species on the planet was at hand. There was no denying the mounting shift in the environment, or the lingering remnants that struggled to survive in hopes of adapting to what came next. It seemed like an impossible situation to go from where humanity once stood to its current state of existence.

Was it a dream? Maybe it was some freakish nightmare just plaguing her nights. The bed could still be warm and comforting. A kitchen stocked with everything a person needed to survive would be waiting for her. After breakfast that job that paid for it all would offer a day of challenges that would end with a triumph over another some patient that showed up dying and left more alive than ever.

No. She was not that lucky. Not anymore.

Rushing wind sent real chills across her covered flesh. Dried blood still stained her shirt. Wild animals scurried along the rooftops before flying off to a better destination. Buildings were decayed structures that offered shelter only to rodents and plant life. Clean sheets, warm beds, rent control; it was all in the past. Maybe even in the past of a different world. The present was still very much a conscious reality and hoping for anything different just made it all that much worse.

Remembering hot showers, cold beer, good company or cable TV was simply an act of punishment. The same went for fresh food, water that did not have to boiled and treated with iodine in it first. Any sense of normalcy was gone. It was better to forget such niceties once existed and go on living simply out of necessity to survive.

The ironic part was that it was little choices that people had made that put the human species on the edge of extinction. It did not take some random meteor, or nuclear war, to push human life to the point of breaking. People chose to create, and move into, overcrowded cities, people chose to turn against the planet without thought for how the planet might react and people brought on the latest epidemic by crossing boundaries nature never intended people to cross.

In the early weeks, plenty of people initially tried peaceful forms of resistance. Many threw their lives away waiting on aid that never arrived. Those that swore not to move from the airports, docks and major roadways until aid came to all equally held out until there was no food, or water, for anyone. Videos of those foolish enough to wait for a solution were a favorite amongst the news channels as their broadcasters encouraged similar courageous acts. That proud support lasted up until those channels lost their ability to maintain broadcasts.

When the blackouts hit that was when people really flooded the safe spots looking for some sort salivation from the spreading epidemic. Mass hysteria lead many to abandon their homes in hopes of occupying one somewhere safer and any place where the government once protected the people became overran with refugees trying to survive. For Remy Hadley being at a hospital had nothing to with a cure that did not exist. For Remy Hadley it was work.

Princeton Plainsboro Hospital had the joy of being under the guise of a working hospital despite being more like the private laboratory for a mad scientist. House was quick to convince Cuddy that doctors from the hospital had to help at a hot zone that sprang up before the airports shut down. It was strictly a volunteer basis as there would be no one to enforce it, but someone needed to step up. Few people ever pick to walk into hot zone after they know what they will be facing. The acts of the willing might have earlier stood on the grounds of being performed out of a sense of a duty, a refusal to leave those that could not leave or a foolish believe that they had been through worse. For Remy Hadley there was simply nowhere else to go. Home was gone, there was no family anywhere to seek out for a happy reunion and if she had to watch people die around her she could at least try to help them.

It was suppose to be a simple shifting of patients flown in from Bellevue to Princeton General on one of the last flights into, or out of, the state and she was one of thirty doctors that had volunteered from the area to try assist those brought in. Most of the doctors from Bellevue and Princeton Plainsboro went back to their respective hospitals, but Remy and handful of others agreed to follow the mobile treatment center back to Princeton General. The odds of a fully staffed hospital actually doing anything to combat the spread were slim and only grew worse as understaffed and overwhelmed became the norm. Yet they all walked into the hot zone anyways. They might save hundreds, maybe thousands, why tens of thousands were dead and tens of thousands more were dying, but it seemed like the right thing to do anyways.

Just as most of the original staff at Bellevue had suffered under the weight of the epidemic, they did not fare much better. Initially there was that great promise of hope. With wiling doctors, calm patients and plenty of supplies the calm tides lasted for a while before the damn broke.

The first crack was when a formerly clean middle-aged man became a new patient and it grew worse when word spread that the man was one of the Neurologists at Princeton General who declined to take any of the medication that might have fought off the virus. Day after that someone shoved their way to the front of the patient line, claiming to be an important human being, whose life was apparently worth more than others waiting to be seen by a doctor.

All that positive change towards returning to civilization became undone the moment the true form of what was beneath that civilization showed up. Suddenly everyone was more important than those around them were and the staff barricaded the entrance from the lobby to the rest of the hospital.

After that, it just became impossible to imagine any of the other relief starting again. The idea of hope ended up in an unmarked grave, followed shortly by an increasingly large number of doctors and patient. Random disappearances, random disappearances that turned out to be suicides, a simple lack of supplies and the disease made its vigorous return. It had been bound to happen, the hospital seemed to be the central headquarters for every imaginable problem someone had and there was only so much that people could do to stave off the inevitable. The only people that the hospital did not seem to attract to it were the damn scavengers, who avoided anywhere large groups congregated.

Unfortunately, it was that group security she was away from now having left the hospital behind in an attempt to regain contact with Princeton Plainsboro. The noise of others approaching her broke through the sound from the afternoon windstorm. It was too abrupt and loud to be people just wondering around. Running would not help; she had been walking for three days without proper food or enough water.

Most of those that were willing to hang around the abandoned neighborhoods were those that had claimed the areas for themselves. Anyone that strayed too far in ran the risk of someone literally slitting their throat for the clothes off their back and they were not picky about if that throat belonged to a doctor or a vagrant wanderer. Freeing a small object from her pocket the woman shifted a large bag until it lay rested at an angle across her upper back. It was not exactly a helmet but the old duffel, stuffed with clothes and rations, beat the back of her being completely exposed.

Two men blocked her path roughly thirty feet in front of her. Circling in from her side were the sounds of the rest of the pack of scavengers, who had suddenly found a walking target. It was hard to know how many of them were involved but it was easy to guess that they had at least another two waiting for her to turn and try to run back in the direction she came from. Some patients claimed the groups were over a dozen strong. Although coming from people that had to run for their lives and were stopping to take a head count how accurate the information was became a subject of debate.

As she stood there, the two men in front of her seemed to be involved in a sudden discussion. They were too far away for Remy to hear but it provided an opportunity to move a few more feet forward. As long as they were distracted, she might just be able to get a hold on one of them first. Unfortunately, her right foot moved at the same time as the round man moved his eyes towards her. There was a sudden outbreak of noise as one of the men ran at her. He was slow but his size could be a problem if he connected. Aiming for an abandoned building that was half way between them, Remy went to run when there was a sudden pull backwards.

Someone had grabbed onto her pack and was attempting to drag it off her. By the time she had struggled free, it was too late. The attacker hit her straight on and knocked the oxygen completely from her lungs. There was no time to get a true look at the man, but he was heavy enough that she was in no real position to get back up.

A pain in her hand reminded her that she had taken one thing from the hospital before she left. It was a tool meant to save people's lives, now though it would have to suffice to save her own. As two hands grabbed her by the shirt collar, before slamming her back down onto the ground, there was no avoiding what was going to happen next. Fortunately, the bag seemed to absorb most of the impact of the initial attacks. The second time she felt her weight pulled upward Remy drove the scalpel into the man's deltoids muscle. The bladed instrument stuck out from where it hit. With the tool causing enough of a distraction, as failed attempts to remove it seemed to cause only further pain, she was able to push him away from her and deliver a quick shot across the jaw.

As Remy bolted past the second man, who had ran past her to check on the bleeding son of a bitch, the sounds of people following behind her were clear. One of the men was shouting something at the others that was not audible over the blood in her head pounding away. Stopping, even as the sounds faded, even as her mind told her that the bastards had given up long ago, was not an option. Running would keep her safe. She would fine as long as she never stopped. There was no thought given to where her feet were taking her, the large duffel hitting her in the back of the head, the numbness rushing up her arm or the burning in her lungs.

Buildings passed by without consideration for what they looked like. The streets felt smoother, housing began to take on a more uniformed look and there was more empty land centered amongst it all than seemed normal for a city. It almost had a suburbia feel to it but offered a familiarity that could not be associated with such a place. The rows of multistory, yet rather narrow houses, gave away to buildings that were more complex and scattered across the miniature city.

Slowly moving away from the black top road, the path ahead was concrete, which, despite its current appearance, would eventually crack under the pressure coming up from beneath. The steps forward were unstable, matching the exhale of carbon dioxide from her lungs, as the wind nipped at the back of her neck. Following a trail towards a destination that had taken three days of wondering through the city, and three nights of sleeping upright, with her eyes open, to get to was the first sign that the trip had been worth the risks.

As the signs showed less than half mile between her and the location the pain in her hand grew worse. All she had to do was get to the hospital; they might still have some supplies. She could explain what happen at Princeton General, assuming she got to PPTH without dying. Though there was the real chance that where she was heading had met the same fate as Princeton General, had no supplies left to scavenge and that if anyone were at the hospital they would do any number of despicable things to her.

Stopping for a moment to get a cotton bandage out of her duffel, hoping the clean cloth, and applied constant pressure, would make up for a lack of aseptic and stitches. Though, the sheer fact that all was wanted to do was lay her head down instead of trying to figure out how to wrap her right hand using her left hand, was not exactly a good sign. Shutting out the world around her it became a matter of trying to focus on just putting the bandage against her hand and taking the steps from there. Recalling years of drunken matches of pin the tail on the donkey, one of many games she had made a point to master why intoxicated, she was able to cause a great deal of pain for herself and put pressure on the wound.

As her vision grew weaker trying to focus on a target and move towards it seemed like a good idea. Picking the tallest structure in sight her eyes followed it into the sky, only for grass beneath her feet to lurch forward and trees to spin without cause. Each tilt of the earth felt as if it would throw her body from the planet as her hands groped at the empty air in search of an anchor. Falling towards the nearest tree, hands grabbed for the lowest limbs and missed.

Failing to stop the plant's movements, or steady her foundation, Remy collapsed next to it. One foot scrapped forward along the wet grass, and then the other followed, until they could hold her weight well enough for her to push her back against the tree. Remembering to breathe in oxygen became the first willful acts after leaning back against the tree. Oxygen was important, oxygen kept people alive, and she did not want to die in the middle of nowhere; alone and completely useless. She owed them more than that.

The world around her took one final spin, a surprisingly nice feeling, before her head touched the cool grass and shadows danced around her.

**For those rereading this chapter you probably noticed there has been some major changes. Originally I made to some of the characters in this story just too different from the characters on the show, which made the interaction too strange. Therefore, I set things more in line with the House story line, with the epidemic starting in the later half of Season 6 and these chapters starting up in an altered version of Season 7 as it draws to a end. Obviously, this fic will still be rather AU and feature Camteen as the chapters' progress. It was simply a matter that some details needed changing to work better for the big picture. **


	2. The Returned

_-_This is the recently finished, long delayed, but probably not so much awaited, second chapter. For those on alter make sure you read the newly edited first chapter before continuing on as this chapter will not make much sense when paired with the originally posted chapter. As usual I do not gain anything from this other than a strange satisfaction when reading reviews and if I owned anything to do with House I would have died on the set some weeks ago when Olivia Wilde returned and thus not be posting this. Enjoy.-

A black nothingness was the last thing she remembered and the first thing she saw. Before, in the fading light, there had been trees and never-ending heights that had vanished into the sun. The empty space around her remained now in a shroud that her eyes could not peer through to the other side. There was no sound, no movement, and no sign that she was a part of the rest of the world. Any surroundings that extended beyond her grasp were lost in the void.

Braced against her back Remy could feel a flat metal surface, which made her body ache from sheer the discomfort of the time spent against it. How long, why and where she had been lying were questions ignored In favor of thanking a deity she knew did not exist that she still had all her clothes on. Losing consciousness was problematic for most that intended to keep their sense of worth, decency, life and anything they generally held of value.

Sitting up, slowly, she seemed to be without harm. Someone had even bandaged her hand in the time she had lost. The duffel and her wallet though did not seem to be occupying the empty room. Vague shapes sat against the wall she was facing but nothing stood out as her possessions. Cautiously setting her feet on the ground the rest of her body had difficulty following. The complete dread of waking up a blacked out room without any idea as to the details inspired the urge to curl up into a quivering, crying, ball on the floor rather than the more mundane idea of walking on it.

Through the sheer determination to find an exit quickly and quietly taking precedent over the urge to form a heap on the floor, Remy changed her vantage point enough that the size of her resting place became more manageable. The void was trapped within four walls that themselves did not look to be anywhere in sight. Stepping forward, moving towards the shapes in front of her, revealed an odd sensation, or lack thereof. Her boots were off. Instead of the heavy leather typically worn on her feet there were a pair of thick socks. They seemed to hold traction well enough for her to move, but the fact that more of her stuff was missing did make the discovery a bit disheartening.

Wondering around dark rooms, grasping at empty shadows, and wondering where the hell half her stuff was at should have been a reminder of better times. Less than two years ago, there were plenty of late nights that had lead to stumbling around a strange apartment, trying to gather discarded clothing and personal effects someone might feel inclined to return. Most of those searches performed with a similar dryness in her throat and throbbing pain in her head, though vodka and pills at least provided a level of pleasure that cutting her hand had not.

Knocking into metal cabinets, putting her hands in front of her face only to walk into a wall when it seemed like her limbs would never find anything to touch, was bad enough but when the effort revealed no light switches that was worse than the pain. Kicking the metal cabinet she had accidentally found did not provide any further relieve either and was likely to draw some attention to the fact that she was in the room.

Holding her breath the seconds passed like hours as she waited on fate to decide how screwed she was. Maybe the sound was barely above the rustle of a mouse. Maybe there was no one around and a very considerate thief had simply robbed her. Maybe some psychopath was going to open the door carrying a bloodied axe and the decapitated head of his previous victim.

Remy's breath hitched in her throat as the obnoxious creek of a metal door moving away from the door frame echoed through the room. Unexpectedly a glimmer of hope came with the ominous sound. There was an obvious source of light on the other side of the door, bright enough to fill each reveled inch of the formerly dark room. Most places barely had lanterns and candles but here it might as well have been the New York skyline condensed into a two-foot gap. The lights were overwhelming as they cashed away shadows and fractured the void. For those initial seconds total darkness would have been a preferred place to stay.

The small world around her became clearer as her eyes adjusted to the light. The prison cell was a room, or one of the duplicates of the same room, where she had spent countless hours before. There were subtle differences in paint now as they aged without touch ups, but the nearly useless space with unbearable furnishings seemed to be holding as a functional standard required of any hospital that maintained a public clinic.

Being enticed with the knowledge of her whereabouts, it came to Remy's attention that the source of the revealing light remained a mystery. Doors do not open without assistance and that meant someone had heard her assault on the cabinet. Snapping her head to view this silent assistant Remy was surprised to see a man dressed in a white coat starring back at her. The suit underneath was well worn, wrinkled to the point that even the tie did not sit straight against it, yet the man himself did not look as if it had lost a night of sleep in his life.

"What was that sound?" A further Australian accent followed the words, furthering a comfort that had settled in since the door opened. However, how she ended up in one of the clinic rooms and why Chase seemed to have no concerns about finding someone in the room were questions that Remy wanted answers to.

"I didn't hear anything." Leaving the room proved easier than Remy would have considered possible for the state of things but the Australian seemed far more concerned with the room than her leaving it. The area outside the room was sparingly light yet it was still enough to sting her eyes and create a path towards what was hopefully someone that was a little less distracted by loud noises.

Finding herself heading towards one of the many doors that had been marked personnel only there seemed to be little choice in stopping, something that was made all that worse by the reappearance of the curious kangaroo. The rest of the hospital was beyond the door and she was stuck on the wrong side of it. Any supplies, chance to get her stuff back, and hope of working out what had happened in the time she lost lay beyond a locked door that was not going to open with a hairpin and few minutes of patience.

"You can't just be wondering around the hospital like this Thirteen. We haven't even tested you to make sure you are not contagious Now let us get you back to the room. I have rounds to make and you need to wait for a nurse to take some blood."

Personnel only though did not necessarily mean personnel only; it just meant that a key card only given to personnel would get someone beyond the door.

"Are you even listening to me?"

The kangaroo would have access, unless the coat had become just a bad accessory for the suit, or a desperate attempt to impress women, in the time she was gone. All it would take was a asking a simple favor.

"You're busy, I am untested, and wondering around the hospital is bad. Now can you open the door or do you have more pointless questions?"

"That area of the hospital is restricted. If you would just return to your room a nurse will be along to change the bandage and test for any possible infections."

There was certainly enough self-righteous importance within that imposed authority to make Remy wish he would stop talking but at least it provided an opening.

"We're both doctors and there has not exactly been a shortage of patients lately. You alone have probably seen thousands of sick people pass through with the same exact thing wrong with them. Now do I look sick to you?"

The visual investigation lasted less than a minute, and was not the worst treatment she had put up with lately, though the examination had definitely lingered a few times to the point that kola doc was downright starring at her.

"Well? Do I get a clean bill of health?"

"You don't look sick but-"

"See. You don't think I look sick, and I don't feel sick, which means two doctors have signed off on my not being sick so I really don't see why I have to be kept away from all the other healthy people." Remy offered a small, reassuring smile, to ensure the obstacle that she was no trouble. It was entirely for his benefit as having to explain basic logic to Chase did nothing to amuse her, but the look that had never failed her in the past.

"Look Thirteen there are regulations, quarantine, exams to go through. We cannot just let people into the clean areas without making sure that they are not going to pose a risk to the others. Even with House trying every crackpot theory he can come up for tests and treatment were still not allowed to ignore protocol just because you use to work here."

That was a rather inconsiderate statement given what she had just been through trying to get back to the hospital. Who the fuck did this asshole think he was?

"No exceptions for anyone right? I wonder if you would be saying that if I had agreed to fuck you. That is what this is about after all. You wanted a shot at the hospital's resident bisexual before I left and you just cannot get over the fact that I would rather treat infected patients than fuck you. I am sure there were plenty of venerable women that were eager for you take advantage of them, an experience made all that more enjoyable by your success earning you high praise from House."

They just stood there after that. Remy wanted him to say something, anything, just to give her an excuse to point out the obvious comfort he had with letting people die if he couldn't kill them himself. Instead, Chase just looked at her. This time though it was as if something was amusing him and that just made her regret not having something handy to smack look off his face.

Still neither of them actually moved, blinked and they barely breathed before the door they were standing in front of opened from the other side. Remy was not going to be the one to turn and look to see who was interrupting them. Fortunately, Chase seemed to have little interest in continuing their conversation walking off after offering the new arrival the briefest of glances.

Looking to view whomever graciously solved two of her problems Remy noted her savior was none other than the annoying kangaroo's ex-wife, who looked rather confused as to what exactly she had the misfortune of walking into. Pushing past the woman and into the more restricted area of the hospital Remy figured the man with answers would be in the diagnostics department.

The now dark haired doctor did not make an effort to stop her, though she did seem to insist on following right behind her. Finding the hospital still occupied by a medical staff, not getting killed on her way there, having to stab someone with a scalpel, waking up in a dark room, being starred at as if her chest was going to tell someone if she was sick and now having someone follow her as if she might drop dead was too much.

She just needed a moment alone to gather up whatever was left of Doctor Hadley. The lights dimmed and the floor feel silent, but the air around her stirred as the nurse rushed passed her side and came to a stop not two feet in front of her.

"Are you sure okay? That was a nasty cut and the blood loss was pretty extensive. Perhaps you should sit down for a minute and I will go get you something to drink."

The woman had watched the world around them collapse and survived it with that bright compensation left intact just aggravated her even further. It was one thing to offer some sympathy to a patient, but they were not on that level. They were little more two strangers that happened to be in the same place at the same time and Remy sure as hell did not want some stranger trying to cradle her as if she was going to break apart without them.

Opening her eyes to look at the overly concerned woman in pink scrubs, Remy did not even attempt to hide her annoyance at the pestering that had disrupted her thoughts.

"I am fine." The amount of confidence she was able to put into the line almost made her own self believe it.

The woman in front of her just smiled, apparently having found some great joy in Remy's claimed recovery, but did not move out of the way.

"Okay. I need to go get some supplies and I did not want to leave an injured patient unattended. Though if you are feeling better I could use your help then you can get some food or find somewhere to lay down that is not a clinic room exam table."

Having this woman continue to talk to her as if she had hit her head was not particularly appealing but the thoughts of shortly being free of the cheery woman and getting some food outweighed the aggravation. Remy just couldn't get pass the fact that the woman would regard a former coworker with such empathy two minutes after finding out they were still alive and now wondering around the hospital.

"Fine."

"Wonderful. Just follow me. We had to move most of the supplies to radiology in order to keep people from taking things." Her self-appointed guardian angel offered yet another smile before turning around and heading down the hallway.

"Be sure to let me know if you start feeling dizzy Thirteen."

The woman just did not seem to stop.

"_It is going to be a long day."_


	3. The Annoyed

Remy had remained in the same chair for the last five hours. It did occur to her that to leave, but drawing attention to the fact that she was really there seemed worse. House and Cuddy had been going through a battle of woeful insults for the last 4 hours and 59 minutes.

The whole time she watched as Cuddy would stand up and raise a finger at House over some remark. House would twirl his cane around while gesturing at various objects in the room and then to various parts of Cuddy's anatomy. She remembered speaking occasionally, but only in fragments.

The words seemed entirely unrelated to what was going on between her two bosses. Remy spoke of former patients. "The virus formed in the lungs. The patient required oxygen. Nothing left to do." Yet House's idea of an interview continued its path towards completely annoying Cuddy. She didn't remember why but at some point House spoke to her again.

"Interesting that you plead ignorance when you know I am far more willing to forgive," House picked up a report he had made her write out earlier before throwing it closer to Cuddy. "Three murders than mistakes."

There was a thought to defend her ability as a doctor, but it seemed out-of-place as Cuddy started yelling at the diagnostician again. That was it occurred to her that this was quickly becoming the longest interview of her life. Having to sit in the hot chair Cuddy's office, despite not being involved in the heated debate, did not help matters.

House had tracked her down because he wanted to irritate Cuddy by irritating her. The thought had a sadistic quality that left Remy with little doubt that House had planned the event in its entirety. He obviously wanted her presence there, albeit only to insult her on a rare occasion, but apparently that was enough that she did not even finish helping Cameron before House dragged into the room. There was some pretense of an interview mentioned when they first arrived, yet the situation had to come from an advanced interrogation handbook instead of management 101.

It was few hours into the painful argument, at least it was painful to her, when the two doctors took a break in the violent starring contest and Remy noticed House was speaking to her again.

"So no one knew what was happening and by the time it was over someone was dead? See what happens when I am not there to save your dates." House then had some new idea and started going off on about how he previously saved Cuddy's ass from something. Once again, she had proved to be an invaluable wall and this time she didn't even need to contribute anything in writing.

Occasionally Remy considered just shouting something, anything, medically relevant to see what would happen, but she kept quiet; the other two seemed to have the shouting thing covered.

A while later the hands on the clock were getting too blurry for her to read clearly. It was about then that she managed to get in a complete sentence before Cuddy could respond to whatever House was saying. "The severity of his death was the direct result of the infection getting a kick-start from the steroids."

House gave her a strange look before offering that twisted smile of his that came up when he had a particularly insulting idea. "Interesting theory Thirteen. I wonder if steroids explain the severity of Cuddy's PMS." It seemed as if her boss was actually speaking to her, a rare event since he had dragged her into the room, which may or may not have been what pushed Cuddy over the edge.

"House!" The dean finally stood up from her behind her desk before silently exchanging violent looks with the bothersome department head. "If you do not have anything better to do than waste time I am sure there are some patients that could use their medications administered."

"And leave figuring out these astonishingly new facts about your PMS to my team? I think not. Two of them aren't even woman to get into Thirteen's pants." House gave her an exaggerated wink on his way out of the office; finally satisfied with whatever the past hours had served to accomplish.

The dean did not even seem to notice someone else was still in the room with her, which Remy took as a sign to leave as silently as possible. On the walk to her assigned room, her legs had taken to joining the pain in her back and hand after having lost all feeling at some point during House's insane farce.

Although in a strange way, she was grateful. She really did not want to go over the details of how patients died, even if that would be more diagnostically important than House's theory that Cuddy was into furrys. Of course, House still had to bring up the fact that a patient they lost was a ten years old girl too scared to reveal her symptoms to anyone despite being sick for months. That still had value as a bothersome comment that Cuddy would be familiar with the fascinating parallels between patients and their doctors if she were a real doctor.

Remy was eager just to rest on a bed for a while before trying to find whatever the cafeteria had left for dinner. Lunch had been an idea lost somewhere between House commenting that Cuddy took supporting fabric conservation to new levels and the dean threatening daycare duty, which seemed to be the new, and more terrifying, clinic duty.

Finding the door to her assigned residence still open there was a brief moment of celebration of some good news for the first time that day. It was an odd thing to be happy about but not having to use her left hand to open and close the door twice just for a brief stop off was nonetheless worth a small smile. As Remy stepped into the room the moment of celebration ended.

"_I would have been willing to open the door for a private room."_

Not bothering to announce her appearance with anything more than long-held sigh of frustration Remy found the empty bed and collapsed on it, exhausted and a little shaky. However, from the pain in her stomach, it seemed clear that her body wanted food more than a moment to relax.

Cameron found the woman's arrival distracting. It wasn't that she had not known ahead of time, finding a bag sitting on a previously unoccupied bed would make anyone curious what name came attached to it, but what she didn't understand was why. They were not close before and the younger woman maintained that reluctance to say anything in the brief time they had spent together that day.

As it would turn out the complete lack of shared interests and communication over the years had not exactly paved the way to turn that into an enthralling conversation. Working in silence might not have been a quiet activity around most of the hospital, but amongst the thick walls of radiology, doing inventory it was mute.

Returning to reading the book that had occupied her attention previously, Cameron gave the pages her full attention. She had only been part way through a chapter before the younger doctor walked in and needed to finish while the lights in the hallways were still on. She hated leaving the rest of a chapter unread before having to put a book away, something very few people ever understood.

Why Allison had her book to distract her Remy found the calm making her restless as the stress of the so-called interview faded and thoughts of what was next came to mind. There was a thousand questions she wanted to ask and a thousand more she didn't want to answer, but what she needed was food.

"I don't know about you, but I am starving."

The sudden remark caught Cameron by surprise. More so that Thirteen had actually said something than the woman being hungry. "The cafeteria should have something left. It won't be anything hot, or particularly cold, but the kitchen might have some fresh greens still."

Silence returned as Remy waited for Cameron to finish the chapter before following the department head to the cafeteria.

* * *

"I cannot believe you did that."

Timidly Allison went about explaining the serious reason for what had amused her newly returned colleague. "Well we needed the alcohol and I knew House wouldn't put up a fight if I bargained keeping the location of his magazines secret from Cuddy instead of just telling her where everything was." It seemed that was how their conversation worked as well. Thirteen would give her something unimportant and, in return, Allison would say nothing more about the pachyderm in the room.

"I hope you at least asked that they not put death by caning on your tombstone." Remy rather enjoyed having a more caring individual to pester with sarcasm for once. There wasn't much to joke about in the last year and before that her coworkers rarely provided such amusement.

"Don't bite the hand that saved yours Dr. Hadley."

Allison just sat there, waiting, she didn't necessarily feel badly about freeing herself from the constant barbs but she really didn't want to opposite the younger doctor, which would bring a boat load of guilt to keep the other ships company. Those words coming out of her mouth seemed to have cast the entire cafeteria into silence. Although given that it was just the two woman and some doctor in a booth on the other side of the room with his coat covering most of his head sleeping that occupied the place the effect was somewhat lessened.

Remy simply took in the comment, playing it over in her head a few times, before hiding the smile forming on her face by investigating her largely empty plate. She had forgotten how amusing it was to see the ever so polite and kind Cameron get a little angry. It was not a regular event, but the times it happened were easy enough to remember given those irregular events made up the bulk of their time together.

"I will have to remember that Dr. Cameron." Remy found that with her need for food sated that sleep was becoming a more prominent idea and before then there could even be a shower if the rest of the hospital remained functional. Eager to return to the room she had forgotten that pushing off a table with her right hand was not really a good idea.

Allison was immediately on her feet after seeing the pain the other doctor was in. Made that much more obvious by the string of curses that filled the room for a brief time before the pain settled.

"Are you alright? Has the hand been hurting all day?" When Thirteen just gave her a look that called her intelligence into question Allison took that as a no and yes, even if the younger woman wouldn't say anything to confirm.

"The bandage probably needs changing and you are going to need that cut cleaned again."

Whatever thoughts of protest Remy might have had ended when Cameron gave her a look that she was certain other patients never saw. How she earned the good fortune of being the one that the sunshine and rainbows doctor took the serious attitude with was lost amongst the thousand other questions.

"Fine, but I am not going to sign in as some patient." Cameron not only kept any papers away from her, but also agreed to treat her in the room with a basic kit the woman kept there.

"_Of course she has she has a personal stock pile. She would probably treat a stray cat if one happened to wonder by."_

The thought was far from pleasant, but was lost at the sight of her cut open palm. The damage was thin and deep, the scalpel didn't stray from where her hand had been forced into it. It was still bloody, though did not seem to be bleeding, and she was able to work all her fingers when Cameron told her to move them to make sure none were paralyzed. Remy even went so far as to extend the middle finger independently of the rest without needing Cameron to ask first.

"Do the showers work?" Cameron gave her a weird look before pressing the cotton swap with antiseptic on it into her cut, which brought about a very painful reaction.

"Sorry." The apology came halfheartedly as Allison figured the woman was insulting her, though she thought the scented shampoo someone had brought in smelt rather nice. "They do work, running water is somewhat important for a hospital, though by now they would have shut off the hot water heaters and the water is probably cold."

Cold water, warm water, or some watery mud would have sufficed. "Just clean it, I will wrap it myself after a shower." Remy watched as Cameron finished cleaning the wound, a process that seemed easier for both of them when Remy was unconscious, and wrapped gauze around it once.

"If you touch anything before getting to the shower it could cause an infection. Some gauze we can spare, antibiotics are scarce and you are probably attached to your right hand." Allison gave her best reassuring smile, only to see those eyes staring at her like some cat that was wholly uninterested in the situation.

* * *

**Well that was part one of the two part third chapter. I wanted to get this posted before the end of April as the month has provided a lot of wonderful reviews for my stories over the last thirty days and I was determined to get my readers another update. On that note thank you all that have read, reviewed, added to favorites or set for alerts on this and all my other stories thus far. Part two should follow shortly, with the exact speed being determined in part by how many reviews this part receives. As always I do not own anything to do with House nor have I had the pleasure of even meeting Olivia Wilde but I hope to fix one of those two things at some point. **


End file.
